On the other hand, Azwel snickers under his breath at Blaze's little dance. Nothing wrong with keeping one's spirits up especially now. Sure, they're expecting an ambush, certainly this is serious, but the moment you get dour is the moment the enemy can wrong-foot you or destroy your morale.

And Azwel's morale is hanging on by a thread, anyway.

To distract himself, he begins loading the food onto the snowmobile's trailer. "Trap or not, there's a chance we can get it back to camp if we take it. If we don't take it, there's no chance at all."

However, once that's done, he finds himself on edge again. He makes his way toward the perimeter, as though just looking for something to fight. He's jumpy--this has gone far too quietly.